That tiny greeting and eye contact made my cheeks heat up again—not only from thoughts of the shower but from what he had seen minutes ago. “Hey,” I said, trying to play nonchalant. “I’m going to grab some water. Mom, do you need anything?”
“I’m good,” she said.
I brushed by Elijah and went to the kitchen. He followed me.
I retrieved a glass. “Can I get you some water?”
“I’m not here to be waited on. What can I do?”
“My mom has a physical therapy appointment today.” I glanced over his shoulder at my mom, who was searching for something on the couch beside her. Probably the remote. I lowered my voice. “Maybe you can help me put her in the car in about thirty minutes. That would be very helpful. And then you can go back to that job you hate.”
I gave him a smirk to show I was mostly teasing. I didn’t want to poke at a sore spot, but Elijah liked to joke, so I was pretty sure he could handle it.
“Yeah,” he said. “You probably think I’m a complete ingrate. I really am.”
“You’re not. You shouldn’t do something you don’t like.” I walked the thirty steps to the living room, picked up the remote off the end table, and handed it to my mom.
She immediately turned the television on to the unnecessarily loud volume that she liked, and I returned to the kitchen without saying anything about it. “Does your dad just go around starting businesses for people without much input, or what?”
“Actually, yes. He has a very successful, large car dealership, and it was his dream that each of his kids run their ownbusiness doing something they love. My older sister has a salon he helped her start and market.”
I took the glass I had retrieved earlier and filled it with ice. “What about Michael? Where is his forced career?”
“For now, he’s helping with the boxing gym ’til he figures out what his passion is.”
“And his passion is not boxing, I take it?”
“That would be too convenient.”
“It really would,” I said, using the dispenser in the refrigerator door for water.
Elijah leaned back against the counter while I drank several gulps, then refilled my glass.
“What?” I asked, because he was staring at me.
On the television, the sounds of the wheel spinning onThe Price Is Rightfilled the room.
“You”—he gave a long pause, then nodded toward the front door—“are sexy as hell.”
And there went my cheeks, heating up again, probably bright red. Someone must’ve hit the one-dollar space on the wheel because there were screams of joy on the television. I patted my pockets and realized I didn’t have my cell phone. It was probably in my bedroom. I pointed toward his pocket. “You need my phone number to avoid future towel greetings.”
“If a phone number is going to take those off the table, I’ve decided I don’t need it.” His words were obviously a joke because he freed his phone and handed it to me.
I entered my number, then texted myself his name so that I had his.
When I handed him back his phone, he said, “What do you think about our homework this week?”
“We don’t have to do the homework this week. She hasn’t guessed, Elijah. One more session and we’re done and she’s none the wiser. Then Michael doesn’t have to do big, bad therapy. He wins.” I was still trying to think of a way to help Tara convince him outside of this bet, but I hadn’t thought of anything yet.
He tucked his cell back into his pocket. “Maybe heshoulddo therapy. I feel like it has brought me closer to a complete stranger. Imagine if we were in love.”
I swallowed. “Imagine.”
He smiled.
“You should tell your brother you changed teams.” I knew Elijah was the answer to change his mind.
“Maybe I will,” he said. “You don’t want to do the homework?”
